I went to lunch with Mary Ann and Jen today, and even though I’m still feeling sad, it was good to get out of the house. We visited a favorite Mexican restaurant, talked things over, laughed a little, and enjoyed each other’s company. Life goes on, thank heaven, and all any of us really have is today. Here in Spokane, the sun is shining, the peonies and irises are still in bloom, and the roses are coming on, ready to take the stage when their short-lived sister flowers take their bows and retreat into the wings to await their next performance. Seems to me, that’s a pretty good analogy for the cycles of life. Flowers bud, bloom, and then, though they seem to die, they are actually working their incredible magic, matrixes of energy hidden away in darkness, hard at work on becoming next year’s glorious blossoms. Maybe, on a spiritual level, it’s that way with people, too. And pets.

And even dreams. Perhaps, in the darkest hours, those nearly forgotten hopes we thought were lost forever are, in truth, shaping and reshaping themselves, somewhere out of sight, fixing to burst into our lives as something new and better than we could have imagined.

Of course nothing blunts the pain of the immediate family and close friends when someone they love passes away, and such comparisons would be mere platitudes to them. I don’t believe in saying things like, “It’s God’s will” to people still reeling from a loss, even when I am certain it’s true, which is most of the time. They’re not ready to hear it, and that’s okay. Better, in my opinion, to say, “I’m here if you need me,” and mean it. Healing is a process, after all, and, like flower bulbs buried under winter snow, processes take time. They’re also different for everyone; some of the bereaved want company, others to be left alone.

I plan to spend the weekend as I normally do–a little writing, a little reading/listening to books, playing with my dogs, petting my kitties, and being grateful for my many, many blessings.

Truly, life is a gift, and it’s so important to celebrate the ordinary moments, for that is where most of us live.

I’ll be back on Monday, announcing this week’s winners of a signed copy of ONCE A RANCHER. The new round will begin then; just comment, and you’re entered. Two winners will be chosen at random, notified, and named on this blog the following Monday. Or Tuesday.

37 comments to “Ladies Who Lunch”

You must be a little north of me as my roses are in full bloom and have been for a little while. The wind and that rain together was a bit hard on them. But just beautiful. Glad you had such a great lunch with friends and now have a great weekend.

What a lovely post Linda and so true. I am so glad you had lunch with friends its always a pick me up. I don’t do a lot of flowers here, I am lucky to keep the lawn mowed with all the rain we have had. I will spend the weekend cooking and cleaning and maybe get a few pats in with my kitty. He is out running around right now but will be in later for his patting.

When you speak about platitudes when someone dies, you are right because I was not ready to hear them when my son died. Grieving is different for every person and this took me almost two years to begin to emerge. People are not there for you after the funeral either. They drift away because it scares them and they don’t know what to say. Usually just an acknowledgement is all that is required. You are in my prayers and thoughts.

You make a powerful point about people not knowing what to say. Better to risk saying the wrong thing, then sincerely apologize, than to avoid the bereaved. When friends lost their 22 year old daughter some years ago, very suddenly, people actually crossed the street to avoid running into them, not, I think, because they were uncaring, but because they didn’t know what to say in the face of such an incomprehensible tragedy. Also, I suspect, a lot of us are secretly afraid such calamities are catchy, like the common cold.

When anything close passes on it always leaves a numbness to those left behind. Keep their friends and family close in prayer and thoughts. Reaching out during and after their dark clouds is important. Justify their loss is unimportant but actions are appreciated. Keeping in touch is so important. A simple hug helps get through more than words?

This was one of those weeks that was in the 100’s wishing you could be some place else but still in the same place surviving. Other times being grateful to be on my feet, having a job, & being able to read, walk, knit & survive. Sorry for your loss & grateful you are still writing your books & doing what your able to do. Going to still be very warm next week. best always, Jo Ann

I always thought peonies were your favorite – they are mentioned in so many of your books. I wish the blooms would last longer. I also decided, from several books, that emeralds are your favorite stone. Right or wrong???

I sooo understand what you are going thru Linda. Last Feb my beloved collie Luke died. I still am not over it, even thought we have a new collie girl Lily to help. My mom died on Dec. 13 and then my younger brother unexpectedly on March 24. I am still so sad and depressed at times! But I am trying now to start to become “Lori” again, you know??
LOVE your books and looking forward to Once a Rancher!
Enjoy your weekend! ( I work every weekend, so mine are usually ‘meh’ LOL!)

I am sorry for the loss of your friend. When we lose people we love it is always hard. We are truly blessed that we had them in our lives and that God gave us the ability to remember them and all the wonderful times we shared. I hope your memories bring you joy. God Bless